


I was born for this

by sherlockcrush



Category: Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alpha/Omega, First Time, M/M, Omega Verse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-06
Updated: 2012-12-06
Packaged: 2017-11-20 10:30:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/584421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sherlockcrush/pseuds/sherlockcrush
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for a Sherlock BBC Kinkmeme prompt:<br/>Omegaverse: Arranged Marriges based on supposed genders before presenting. I'd like to see a world where families will occasionally arrange for their children to marry each other based on family genetics before the child ever presents (shows their gender). The Holmes family has a strong alpha line in their sons, so they seek an omega for him to marry when he presents. The Watson family has a strong omega line in their sons, thus they wish to marry him to a prospective alpha.</p>
<p>Thankfully, Sherlock and John enjoy each others company and can tolerate various quirks. They themselves see each other more as friends than mates, but that will come when it comes.</p>
<p>And comes it does when Sherlock presents as an omega rather than alpha and John is more than willing to bury his new found knot in Sherlock.<br/>http://sherlockbbc-fic.livejournal.com/21231.html</p>
            </blockquote>





	I was born for this

“I remember when my father, your grandfather, walked me down the aisle. I barely knew your father, of course, the times being different then, but he looked so handsome standing there waiting for me. If only he could be here today…”

Sherlock sighed inwardly and finished adjusting his tie just as Mycroft walked in.

“Mummy, you’re going to make yourself cry,” the older Holmes brother said, gently kissing her on the forehead. He turned towards Sherlock, who was dressed in a bespoke black tuxedo with a deep purple tie and waistcoat. “Besides, doesn’t Sherlock look handsome himself?”

Mummy Holmes clapped her hands and pulled Sherlock’s hands into her own. “Oh I’m so proud of you. My darling baby boy all grown up. Getting ready to enter into the long honorable tradition of bringing a child on a healthy omega.” She cupped Sherlock’s face and patted his cheeks. He glanced behind her at Mycroft, who smirked and shrugged, as if to say, What? You want me to upset Mummy?

Sherlock’s pale blue eyes focused back on his mother and he smiled. Or tried to while she pressed his face between her delicate hands.

Maribella Holmes was a strong supporter of tradition, and now that Myrcroft and his omega wife, Anthea, had produced their second child, she had turned her attention to her younger son. Sherlock had spent years wandering around Europe, drugged up, strung out, and generally not in any right mind to have a child. But now that he was clean, had been for a good number of years now, it was time for him to follow the proud tradition of ensuring the Holmes family line. 

“Sherlock, this is very important to me. Not only that, but the tests show that John is the perfect match for you genetically. This match is likely to produce very healthy children, alphas in particular.” She looked back at Mycroft, who was leaning casually against the wall. “Mycroft, make sure your brother is at the ceremony on time.” She gave her sons a blinding smile and said, “Now, be good for Mummy and stay here while I see to the guests.”

With that she was out the door and heading to the grand ballroom of Holmes Manor where the wedding was going to take place.

Sherlock sat with a smirk in a plush wing back chair and crossed his legs nonchalantly. “Well, she does seem calmer than at your wedding.”  
\---  
Across Holmes Manor, Doctor John Hamish Watson fidgeted as his sister hummed around him like a hyperactive bee. “Harry. Harry! Stop, please…I look fine. More than fine. This tuxedo probably cost more than I make in a month…”

His sister finally stepped back with a huff and looked him up and down. She grinned. 

“You look so handsome! Sherlock Holmes is one lucky man.”

John adjusted his tie. Again. It was a deep silvery charcoal. All in all his outfit was a bit too much for his tastes, but his future mother-in-law had been adamant that his and Sherlock’s outfits complement each other. Sighing, he pickup a glass of water.

“So…do you think you guys are going to have a baby immediately?”

John nearly choked on the water. “Harry! We – we barely know each other! I mean, we do know each other, and he’s a nice bloke and all, but we’ve only had a handful of dates.”

“True, but honestly this is what the match is for.” Harry crossed her arms. “You can’t hold off of having kids. Mrs. Holmes would blow a gasket.” She stepped forward and touched John’s arm. “Is it – are you  
afraid of having the baby?” she asked gently.

John looked down and swallowed nervously.

“Oh John…It won’t be so bad. You’ll have the best doctors around you. Like Mrs. Holmes would settle for less. I’m sure Brandon would be willing to talk to you about it,” she said, referring to their cousin, a rather fertile omega who was currently showing the belly of his and his alpha’s fourth child. “I mean look, you - we – we’re omegas. This is what we do, right?”

John met his sister’s eyes in the mirror and smiled. “Right. Let’s do this.”  
\---  
The door of the ritzy hotel suite closed with a soft click and John sat heavily on the couch. “I have to say, I kind of like the idea of not staying at the manor. That wedding planner…”

“Has probably had at least four energy drinks since he woke up this morning,” Sherlock said with a snort. He looked around. Mycroft had arranged this suite for their honeymoon in Paris. They had spent the wedding night at Holmes Manor, and not surprisingly, they had both collapsed into bed exhausted. He tried not to think about John beneath him, naked…he shook his head and walked to the window. They had a view of the Eifel Tower. It would be a beautiful view at night, he mused. Speaking of beautiful…he turned to where his husband was sitting on the couch. Husband. The word sounded odd to his mind.

“We should scan the suite for bugs.”

“Bugs? In a nice place like this?”

“Listening devices. Or cameras,” Sherlock said dismissively.

“Who would-?”

“My dear brother. He’s very set on ensuring that we…produce the right results. Or should I say reproduce?” He smirked for a brief moment. “But I am not willing to share us with others. Especially with him.”

John blushed at the thought and idly fiddled with the brocade fabric edge of the couch.

“Perhaps,” Sherlock suggested, keeping his voice low and calm, “you would like to shower while I search the suite for bugs?”

“Ah, yes, that sounds like a good plan.” John stood up. “Right,” he said decidedly, brushing the back of his hand against Sherlock’s cheek as he passed by on his way to the bathroom.

When John emerged a while later, skin hot and steaming, Sherlock was lounging on the bed. He had taken his jacket off and his feet were bare. He was wearing a purple shirt and he had undone several of the top buttons, teasing with bare skin for anyone who cared to look. John was suddenly hit by arousal. Now that they were there, alone, his body was starting to respond and he could feel himself begin to harden.

“Done?”

“What?” John asked, flushing when he realized he’d been caught staring.

“Finished with your shower?” 

“Oh. Yes. Bathroom’s all yours.”

Sherlock unfolded himself from where he was sitting and stalked towards John. He gently grasped John’s chin in his hand and kissed him. The kiss was soft and hungry and promised what would happen soon. “I should shower,” Sherlock murmured, pulling away.

“Don’t take too long,” John replied. “I-I want you on top of me. Soon.”

“Mmm, yess…I won’t be long.”

The bathroom door closed and John ran his hands through his hair. He was going to be bred. By Sherlock Holmes. He frowned and shifted on his feet, toes digging into the plush carpet. 

Shouldn’t he be wet by now? Or at least starting to be wet?  
In preparation for mating, an omega’s body began producing lubrication. Substantial amounts of it if the medical texts were correct. He’d never seen it first hand, but he was aroused, and he thought that by now he should be leaking from his rectum. 

Glancing quickly at the bathroom, he sat on the bed and lay back so that he could gingerly swipe a finger between his legs. No wetness. Not even a drop. Perplexed, he sat up and looked down. 

And gasped. 

John’s penis was bigger than before. There had to be some mistake. Now that he and Sherlock were married and off the hormonal suppressants, his system should be flooding with the omega hormone that would enable him to be taken by his alpha. To bear his child.

Instead, John was looking at what was clearly the penis of an alpha. He touched the length and hissed at the sudden pleasure. Looking down, he could see a knot starting to form at the base, seeking a mate.

Shit. Shitshitshitshit. How could this happen?!

What the hell was he going to do? Sherlock would be back in a couple of minutes expecting a dripping wet omega. And then what? Two alphas can’t mate. Their marriage would be annulled. How could the genetic tests be so wrong?

John sat back heavily against the pillows on the bed. He heard movement in the bathroom and wrapped the robe tightly around him, covering the incriminating evidence. He was still aroused, but that would have to wait. He owed it Sherlock to tell him of the….issue immediately.

The bathroom door opened and Sherlock looked out, appearing a bit furtive. “John…John there’s been a – a complication. I believe. A mistake. I – ohhhh, you smell good.” Sherlock stepped into the room and licked his lips. 

Then it hit John like a speeding train. Omega. He smelled an omega. And Sherlock, being the only other person around, had to be it. 

“Sherlock?”

Sherlock held up a shaking hand. There was something wet, glistening on his finger tips. 

“I seem to be an omega,” Sherlock stated.

John’s eyes darkened. His newfound alpha impulses kicked into gear in the presence of an omega. An omega ready to be bred. He stood up and nearly prowled towards his husband.

“It appears that the tests making us a match were correct, just not in the way we or our families thought.” John smiled and let his robe fall open revealing his new anatomy.

Sherlock looked down and then his eyes flew back up to meet John’s. “You’re an alpha,” he whispered. 

“And you’re an omega,” John answered, his voice lowering. He stepped forwards until he could feel the heat coming off of Sherlock’s body. The man was wearing only a towel wrapped around his waist, and John had the sudden need to run his hands over the smooth planes of pale skin. Without looking for permission, John ran his hands over Sherlock’s arms and chest. 

Sherlock leaned back against the wall with a soft moan. John grinned and moved in, kissing his neck and collar bone, nipping at the skin. 

“John…need….”

“Need what, Sherlock. Need me?”

“Yesssss, need you.”

John ripped the towel away and quickly shed his robe, leaving them both bare and naked. He pushed a knee between Sherlock’s long legs. Sherlock felt the knee nudging up between his spread legs and he groaned, pushing down on it. 

“Ohhh, fuck. John, I need you – I need you on top of me.”

John groaned at his use of his own words. He spun them around and pushed his husband onto the bed.  
Sherlock looked up at him. “It would appear that we will need acclimate to new roles.” He slowly spread  
his legs, letting John see how wet he was.

John groaned and took two long purposeful strides towards the bed. He climbed on top, hovering over his husband. His mate. 

“Good observation,” John said, leaning down to kiss him again. As they kiss, he lets his body down, slowly laying himself out over his omega husband. The skin to skin contact was everything he’d ever dreamed of, though he’d always imagined himself on the bottom. Sherlock was hot and wet and wanton beneath him.

And suddenly he wasn’t. Sherlock flipped them over, rolling them until John was looking up into Sherlock’s pale eyes, framed by his dark curls. Sherlock smirked down at him and roughly pushed their cocks together. They both groaned at the contact. Sherlock pushed his hips down rhythmically. He grasped John’s chin and held his head still as he kissed him roughly.

Half way through the kiss, John pushed Sherlock up and off of him. He quickly straddled Sherlock’s slim waist and pinned his hands above his head.

“I think you’re forgetting who’s the alpha here,” John growled. 

Beneath him, Sherlock wined, throwing his head back, and presenting his neck in a submissive gesture that made John the newfound alpha in him roar with approval. But not yet. He couldn’t make the bite that would seal their bond until he was inside Sherlock. Very deep inside.

Still, he couldn’t help but lean down and gently mouth that tempting skin between his teeth. He kept Sherlock’s hands above his head. 

“Here,” John murmured, “Right here. This spot smells so absolutely delicious that I think I’m just going to have to mark you. Right. Here.”

“Please! John I need you in me so much! Please!” Sherlock pushed his hips up, trying to show his husband how much he needed more. He spread his legs wantonly.

John took the invitation and let go of Sherlock’s hands so that he could run a finger between his spread legs. There was ample lubrication. His whole body shuddered in anticipation. “Do you know how slick you are right now, Sherlock?”

“Fuck,” Sherlock ground out when he saw John’s fingers wet with natural lubrication. “I had no idea my body could do that.”

John smiled predatorily. “Your body,” he said, pushing a finger into his husband’s hole, “wants a big alpha cock like mine to mark you.”

“Yes!” Sherlock shouted, though whether it was in response to John’s words or his finger, neither knew. 

“Please John. Need you to mark me. Make me yours. Please.”

“Soon, soon,” John crooned as he pushed another finger inside. He didn’t think that Sherlock needed much stretching, but the worry of hurting him managed to make a dent in John’s hormone-addled brain.  
When John deemed him stretched enough, he positioned his hard cock at the entrance to Sherlock’s body. Sherlock spread his legs wide in offering and locked eyes with him. For one moment, they paused, held there. Waiting. Then John directed the tip of his cock into the tight hole and pushed. They groaned in unison and John pushed in until the slightly swelling base of his cock was flush against Sherlock’s ass cheeks.

“Fuck you feel amazing,” John ground out, panting. 

“So deep,” Sherlock breathed. “I never imagined….”

“I don’t think either of us did,” John said with a chuckle as he kissed the spot under Sherlock’s ear.

“John, I need you to move now.”

John pulled back and looked him in the eyes. “You need to be bred by your alpha? You need this cock, hmm?”

“Fuck yes!”

John looked intently down at him. He pulled his cock out almost all the way and then pushed back in, setting up a rhythm between them. 

“You want my knot don’t you, Sherlock?”

“Yes, please give it to me.” 

“Say it. I want to hear you say it.”

“I –“ Sherlock licked his dry lips, “I need your knot. I need – I need you to breed me!”  
John growled and sped up. He could feel something odd and pleasurable happening in his cock. He pulled out all the way and looked down. The knot was there. It had formed as blood pooled there, preparing to fulfill his natural drive to breed a willing omega. 

“Oh lord that’s gorgeous,” Sherlock breathed.

John looked up and found Sherlock’s eyes focused on his cock. 

“You want in you? Splitting you open and forcing you to hold my seed inside?” John teased Sherlock’s  
hole with the tip of his cock.

Sherlock dug his hands into the sheets. “You have to ask that question?” he breathed.  
John pushed his cock inside completely. “I think I like hearing your gorgeous voice telling me how much you want me.”

Sherlock pulled John to him and urged him on. John started a brutal pace, pushing deeper and deeper until the swelling of his knot was beginning to inch its way into Sherlock’s body. Beneath him, Sherlock’s hips pushed up to meet John’s powerful thrusts. 

“Ready?” John ask breathlessly, straining to hold back.

“Yeesss,” Sherlock replied, wincing a bit at a particularly rough thrust.

John pulled out half way. “Hold onto me, baby, I’m going to take care of you now. Going to give you  
what you need,” he breathed.

In response, Sherlock wrapped his legs around his alphas waist and nodded. John pushed back in hard and fast, forcing his knot into his omega’s waiting body. The alpha growled happily, lips pulled back revealing his teeth.

Sherlock keened. He knew logically that his body adapted easily to accommodate his mate’s knot, but it hurt. And it felt good. Unbelievably good. His fingers twisted in the sheets as John began to pound into him roughly. Every smack of skin, every brush against his prostate. Sherlock welcomed all of it.

And then John wrapped his smooth fingers around Sherlock’s cock.

“It’s ok. Let go. I’ve got you. I’m going to give you what you need,” John said, words falling deliciously from his lips. 

It was as if Sherlock needed permission. Or maybe he was waiting for it. At his mate’s words, he shuddered and came hard. John gasped at the sheer intensity of it.

When Sherlock was spent, he lay back, panting harshly. John leaned down, sniffing the juncture of Sherlock’s neck. When he found the right spot, just below his ear, he latched on and bit down. He worried the skin between his teeth, ignoring his mate’s whine. 

When John tasted a bit of blood, he pulled back and let himself go. He came deep in his husband’s body, grunting at the effort. John collapsed on top of Sherlock and lay there, panting. Sherlock lowered his legs and winced. He’d almost forgotten that they were still tied together. John gently rolled them onto their side and helped Sherlock keep his top leg high up on John’s hip. 

“Are you, erm, ok?” John asked as he smoothed some of his mate’s curls away from his temple.

“A bit indisposed at the moment, but otherwise I appear to be in one piece.” He shifted and winced.  
“But I’ll probably be a bit sore tomorrow.”

“Sorry. Couldn’t hold back.” John blushed sheepishly.

Sherlock smiled and ran his hand over John’s bicep. “I think I can forgive you for submitting to your baser nature. As long as I get something to eat as soon as we’re separated.”

“Mmm, yes, now that you mention it, I’m ravenous! I suppose it would be inappropriate to call for room  
service?”

“I would perhaps recommend that we wait until we can leave the bed.”

John smiled. “So. We’ll have to tell our families, you know. About the – well, about the change in roles.”  
“Perhaps we should wait until I start to show?” He looked down at his flat belly, imagining it round with their baby.

“We’ll never hide this,” John said, thumbing the obvious bonding bite on the right side of Sherlock’s long neck. There was no possible way that anyone would see that and confuse it for anything else. It screamed Stay away. He’s mine.

Suddenly it didn’t matter that the roles they had prepared for had been reversed. If anyone had asked, they would have said that it was the first time in his life he’d felt whole, though Sherlock probably would never admit as such to Mycroft.


End file.
